


their young hearts

by letherburn



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Rhaegar Won, Coming of Age, F/M, Fluff, Jon Snow is Not Called Aegon, Jon Snow is a Targaryen, Jon Snow is called Daeron Targaryen, Light-Hearted, R Plus L Equals J, Romance, Young Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:20:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25535755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/letherburn/pseuds/letherburn
Summary: Young love comes to a head in a world where Robert's Rebellion was stopped and Aerys Targaryen remains king.
Relationships: Jon Snow/Daenerys Targaryen
Comments: 26
Kudos: 67





	their young hearts

**Author's Note:**

> A different type of fic. It's light-hearted, but still different. It starts off a bit smutty, but well, it should be different.

DAERON i.

He watched her from the entrance to the balcony.

She was wearing a white dress, her pale arms bare. The sun shone in her silver-gold hair. Her laughter carried on the wind. When she turned to him, he saw the pale lilac of her eyes. Her tongue peaked between white teeth at his watchful gaze.

“Daeron,” she greeted. Her voice was as beautiful as the sea crashing against his heart.

He returned the smile, shy and embarrassed. His fingers balled into fists at his side as he searched for the words to say. But she knew him well enough that her patience was as long as summer days.

The wind blew and her hair caught it with its tips. Her fingers fought with the gods as she tried to tame the soft tendrils that seemed to have a mind of their own.

He knew what to say then, found the words in the face of her constant beauty. He told her, said the words that were at the tip of his tongue with a boldness he could only ever grasp when on the back of a mount and lance in his hands.

Her smile was enough to cave his chest. It shook him to his core, made the knot in his belly tighten. He was a love-struck fool and he had no regrets.

“Are you going to stand there forever, my lord?” she asked, with a tilt of her head.

Her eyes burned with an invitation. 

He was so desperate for anything of hers, that he took it, and walked out into the light and warmth and reached for her hand before his nerves got the best of him. Her soft skin was the antithesis to his hardened calloused hand.

He did not let go.

Couldn’t... 

Wouldn’t dream of ever letting go if he could help it. Like a fisherman out at sea, he reeled her in, and brought her close. She was everywhere then. He breathed her in and held _her_ in his lungs. And when the exhale came, it was like a drunken rush for more. 

A part of him wanted him to slow down, to take his time. But he had never understood the reason for patience. Not when she was so close to being his. And definitely not when he leaned down and took her lips in his, slowly, and as softly as falling raindrops under the eaves at Dragonstone.

He kissed her lightly. His hands wandered. They touched her like a nephew should never touch an aunt. 

When they broke apart, her eyes were dazed, and surprisingly hungry for more. For a moment, he was hopeful, but that hope turned into something terrible as that brightness dimmed. She took a step back, put him at arm’s length, and stared up at him.

“What was that, Daeron?” she questioned, her voice shaky and raw and almost damning.

He wanted to say everything. He wanted to tell her that was them and that there was a promise for more. If only she agreed. If only she could find it in her heart to go along with it. But his courage faltered at the sight of her surprise and shock. 

Instead, he cursed himself. He tried to take a step back, to turn back the sands of time, but she wouldn’t let go.

She reached for his tunic, held it in her tiny fists.

“You don’t get to leave without telling me what is going on,” she said, her voice soft, but with a hint of warning. It reminded him of how his lady mother would get when she was trying not to lose her patience with him when he did something wrong.

But this wasn’t his lady mother.

This was _her_. This was Daenerys, his Dany. And he had just kissed her for the first time as clouds drifted overhead and as one of the Kingsguard stood behind a door to her chambers, none the wiser. Suddenly, he realized how big of a mistake this could turn out to be. 

What had he been thinking?

_Nothing, only her_.

But he had come this far. Could he go further? Did the gods have a wager on whether or not he would get caught at any moment now and brought before the king?

He gazed at her, the determination in her round eyes, how her mouth was beginning to form words. But before she could speak, he steeled his heart and surprised her. 

Because nothing was ever gained if one didn’t try. 

His hands reached out to her hips and guided her to his front until their chests met. She groaned lightly as they touched, shock coloring her expression. “Daeron—”

He silenced her once again with his lips. Fearful that Ser Oswell would come barging through the chamber’s doors, but more terrified that she would push him away in disgust.

Yet none of that happened. 

And for that singular moment, he knew he had made the correct choice, that his heart had not led him astray. Because nothing could compare to this feeling of her in his arms, to the softness of her lips, or how she parted them when his tongue begged entrance. 

It was just them.

Shared with no one but the open balcony doors and the cool breeze that drifted through thin lace curtains.

When they broke apart this time, they were panting and their chests heaved as if they had run down their favorite abandoned corridors from their childhood. But this time, he wasn’t afraid. How could he? After tasting her and having her in his arms?

He held courage in his hands and he never wanted to let go. Instead, he wanted more. He wanted to have every bit of her, even the parts hidden from the world.

She obliged when he led her to the bed. 

That nervousness he had felt when he first saw her, now graced her flushed expression as she bit her bruised lips. When the backs of her knees touched the featherbed, they stood as still as trees on calm summer days. But before she could say a word to stop him, he eased her down until she was looking up at him with this look that nearly took the air from his lungs.

His heart clenched and he wondered if he had the same effect on her?

He hoped so.

She sat up on elbows to watch him as he knelt before her. He took one of her legs and ran his hands down the smooth skin to the silk of her slippers. They were a light blue color, and soft to the touch, though he preferred the feel of her bare flesh to any fabric.

He eased the offending slippers from her dainty feet until they were both free of their trappings. 

Her face blushed, but there was a playfulness in her smile as she wiggled her toes. He bit one, softly, playfully, causing her to giggle into her hand so as to not be heard. “Stop it, Daeron,” she whispered, as he planted kisses along the bridge of her foot.

He ignored her and peppered kisses to her ankle and up her leg, pushing the sheer fabric of her dress up as he went. He could feel the heat of her smallclothes, and smelled her arousal in the air. 

He looked up at her, only to see darkened eyes and parted lips.

She took short, quick breaths before she licked her lips and gazed at him. “You can’t stop now. Not after you’ve gone this far,” she dared, her voice low.

He held her gaze for a beat of his ragged heart, searching for anything that would let him know that he was going too far, that this was too much in such a short span of time. After all, he had never done anything like this before. Especially not with her and he hoped she was the same and just as inexperienced and clumsy as him.

But her gaze was guarded. But then her lips trembled and her thighs moved like snakes on the featherbed, constricting, grinding, anxious like a child that couldn’t stand still. “Please more,” was all she said as he watched her move like that.

Satisfied that this is what she wanted, he took a deep breath and exhaled it onto the offending garments. Her thighs moved as she shifted below him. Then, with the same boldness from before, he took a shaky hand and slipped his fingers underneath the coverings and began to slowly pull them down nervous legs.

Beneath all her dresses and garments, he had never expected to see her so bare, this unfettered and glistening need for him. A sigh escaped her, and her legs opened further. He saw a part of her that, he hoped, would only be for him. Slowly, he touched her with a finger and another. Curiously, he inched closer to the dampness, to where she was the hottest.

When he slid past her folds, he heard the sharp intake of breath, followed by a muffled moan. He stopped, afraid he had done something wrong, and just as he was going to pull away, her hips eased forward.

He licked his lips in determination. She was tight, hot, and gasping as he moved in and out of her. Her legs spread even further. It was a wanton and lewd display that caused his cock to ache against the wall of his breeches. Her groans were starting to get louder with every thrust of his fingers. Afraid of being discovered, he leaned further on the bed, put his whole weight next to her, until he could cover her mouth with his free hand.

He silenced her with his palm as he fucked her with his fingers.

Beads of sweat lined the crown of her head as she twisted the thin white sheets in her hand. She closed her eyes when he curled his fingers into a hook and dragged it against her hot walls. When he thought the sight of her couldn’t get any sweeter, her thighs clenched around his arms and her hands shot to his tiring arm and held him in place as her cunt became a vice.

He watched her come undone, watched as she clenched her pretty eyes shut. It was striking, to see her like that, to see her like no one ever had. He felt satisfaction strummed in his chest. He felt pleased.

When her excitement abated, he slowly removed his palm from her mouth. Then he unraveled his constricted arm from her deadly grip. His fingers were coated with her. Fascinated, he tasted her release and desire as she watched him with dark and hungry eyes.

Not once did she break her heated stare as she closed her legs from his easy access or when she turned and shifted to rest on her side. When she spoke, she spoke quietly, as if afraid of being caught red-handed. “Where did you learn how to do that, _Dae_? Have you been following Aegon to the brothel in King’s Landing?”

He blushed, embarrassed as he shook his head in denial. Strands of his long hair fell into his eyes that made her smirk. Before he could say anything, she moved and sat up, then crawled into his lap. She lightly touched his face until she caught his loose hair and pushed it out of his eyes.

“Much better,” she said, before she planted a light kiss on his lips. Her eyes sparkled with mischief and the midday sun illuminated her face in its warm glow. 

She was breathtaking in her beauty.

“Now you can watch me as I do this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Can't promise fast updates for this.


End file.
